


Happier Here

by LadyLilyMalfoy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Mystradedoodles, Romance, ekphrasis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLilyMalfoy/pseuds/LadyLilyMalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Mysradedoodle's lastest masterpiece - Mycroft watches his partner reading 'Wreck' in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happier Here

**Author's Note:**

> http://mystradedoodles.tumblr.com/post/29720483762/marmosette-mystradedoodles-marmosette

He glances down – a little furtive sideways look – and it’s the crinkle that does it – the tiny crease above the nose and below the eyes – blissful; wholly and completely and so much so that it isn’t even realised.

He doesn’t notice the smile as it spreads, or the keys that lay forgotten beneath his finger tips – if you asked what he was doing, he’d frown and look at you strangely for a moment as though it was both obvious and ridiculous. Chances are, though, he probably wouldn’t hear you.

He’s forgotten that last time the tea was spilt, that the bed sheets were (are) stained with the memory of the little twitch of excitement given  at the reunion – he had been glancing sideways then too, had been expecting it, had even been looking forward to it – Gregory never _ever_ skipped ahead. The mess had been worth it – forgiveness hadn’t even come into the equation. Mycroft knows how it ends (of course he does) and he’s waiting for him to see it too – waiting for the spill – it’s worth it.

Through the two millimetres of chequered cotton – through the jammies they chose together – coercion had never been an issue – they share a touch – just a little one, just to know (not that they need reminding, but it’s nice to know). It’s unnoticed, but its absence would be unpleasant.  

It always takes so long for him to get comfortable – underneath and on top, one side or the other – Mycroft always leaves him to it before joining him (it’s simpler – he is easily pleased) in the folds of creased linen. It never used to be like this – Mycroft vaguely recalls a time of hospital corners and ironed duvets – he vaguely recalls but would never look backwards.

His eyes fall and his heart gives a little jolt of expectation – he could count down from ten...nine...eight...

“Don’t,” says Greg with just his lips – teeth preoccupied with his thumb. “Don’t spoil it.”

Mycroft’s lips quirk – ‘ _thpoil_ ’- he wants to lean down to press a kiss to Greg’s brow, to be cheek to cheek instead of jammies to jammies, but he doesn’t want to upset the tea – that’s for later and he doesn’t want to spoil it.

He follows Greg’s eyes and they finish it together at the same pace – even though he knows what’s going to happen, it’s still a thrill when it does.

Backwards, forwards – they are both happier here.

 


End file.
